


With Silk As A Witness

by MorningsofGold



Category: Deathless - Catherynne M. Valente
Genre: Everyone Is Bi And Poly, F/M, Light D/s, Oral Sex, devils in love, getting a sexy rise out of each other, offscreen marya/lebedeva, post-coital polyamory talk, tender human emotions, yearning for magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24956929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorningsofGold/pseuds/MorningsofGold
Summary: "How is my lover?" Marya murmurs."Content," Koschei says against her mouth."And how are his lovers?" She asks, pleased with her little play on words.Koschei's black eyes shine at her, so very much like a bird. He has the perpetual look of a crow who might wing over to perch lovingly on your shoulder, or take an unexpected peck at your eye for spite."Content," he says with a mischievous smile.
Relationships: Koschei the Deathless/Marya Morevna (Deathless), Madame Lebedeva/Marya Morevna/Koschei the Deathless
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	With Silk As A Witness

Afterwards, he kisses the sweaty curls of black hair at the nape of her neck and massages the feeling back into her wrists, bruised and red from the bite of silken twine. Marya floats on a wine-dark sea of postcoital bliss, watching her husband worship her in his particular way. 

Koshchei sweeps Marya's curtain of hair away from her eyes and lays down on his belly beside her. He watches every flicker of emotion on her face with a scholar's interest. Even after so many years and so many wives, he has not learned the minutiae of human expression. She catches him sometimes, trying to arrange his face at the perfect crossroads of whatever sentiment he wishes to convey. It makes him look all the world like a wolf trying to button up a dinner jacket.

It makes her love him terribly, that strangeness, that wild demon nature. The land of the undying makes her feel like a soft, exposed-belly relic of a weaker species. She wishes she could wrestle the dark magic of the place into her treacherous body, re-make herself into something more demon than girl. But when Koschei looks at her with wonder in his ancient eyes, she feels as though perhaps her humanity has value after all.

"How is my lover?" She murmurs, letting the dark satin sheets slide off her skin and reveal her scarred, beautiful body.

"Content," Koschei says against her mouth. 

"And how are his lovers?" She asks, pleased with her little play on words  
.  
Koschei's black eyes shine at her, so very much like a bird. He has the perpetual look of a crow who might wing over to perch lovingly on your shoulder, or take an unexpected peck at your eye for spite.

"Content," he says with a mischievous smile. 

"Serafina?" She asks, trying to remember names. Koschei's lovers come and go, and she has only ever become friendly with a few of them. He's more private than she is, less likely to bring a new paramour along shopping or go out of his way to introduce whoever he decides to dance with at the City of Life's balls. "And Gareth?"

"Garrett. Both are well, and well taken care of. Though I suspect Seraphina's affections may be waning. Which is probably for the best; she's far too fond of hunting and hiking for my taste.

"Tell me a story of one of them. I want to know how you pass your time with your paramours when I’m not around."

"Little voyeur," he says with a grin, all teeth. More teeth than a human man would have, she thinks. "I will not. Tell me of yours. How is the leshy?"

"I don't love Zemlehyed," Marya says, wrinkling up her nose. "He's....Zemlehyed." 

"You will," Koschei says with a chuckle, pulling her against his chest. She can not say that he is warm, but he is vibrant and alive, nestled next to her. "I see how he looks at you, and the forest keeps its secrets well. Give it time."

"I'll hear none of your fortune-telling old man," she mutters, but there is a smile in her voice. Marya likes secrets.

"And Madame Lebedeva?

Marya sighs heavily, throwing her head back on the pillow.

"She infuriates me. Intoxicates me. We're polar opposites, but I can't seem to stay away."

"Hm, that sounds familiar," Koschei teases. 

"The ways of love are unscrupulous."

"Maybe I should send a new dress to her home, green silk in that cucumber color she loves so much. To smooth things over between you two. Or woo her into my arms.”

“Unscrupulous, indeed. You would have her?”

“If having her didn’t mean displeasing you.”

“I promise not to fly into a jealous rage and try to win her back from you with feats of daring and cruel devil’s tricks. Although I might be cross if you whisked her away on a day she had promised to take tea with me.”

“In that case, you would have to present yourself in protest and demand both of our full attentions at the same time.”

"You're a wicked thing," Marya says, flashing her teeth in delight. 

"Wicked as they come, volchitsa," he says. Koschei tugs the remaining scrap of silk off his wife's body, admiring her strong legs, her ample hips, her hair as long as a bridal train. He trails a line of kisses along her belly, lower and lower, until his palms are under her buttocks, tipping up her hips.

"Now," he says, breath hot against the most intimate part of her. "Tell me a story of your precious vila."


End file.
